


A tale as old as time - Bard x OC

by XxByImm



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alfrid being the slimery toad he is, Bard being Bard, Brea is cute and badass, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:27:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25628209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxByImm/pseuds/XxByImm
Summary: How could he never have noticed her before? Because after just one single glance at this lady and her breathtaking eyes, these bowman’s nights grow long and restless. He considers himself to be too old for infatuations like this, but yet there he is, watching her from a safe distance and craving her touch. Bard is determined to sit this one out, to wait until these unwanted feelings fade away… But we all know what happens when you’re trying to avoid someone in a small town…
Relationships: Bard the Bowman/Original Character(s), Bard the Bowman/Original Female Character(s), Bard the bargeman/original female character, Bard/Brea
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	1. Esgaroth upon the Long Lake

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all lovely people on the internet! <3
> 
> I needed a break from all the work I yet have to write, because every time I look at my Tumblr requests my mind goes into full panic mode. Furthermore, Thorin & Enya don't want to go through the heartbreaking part of their story just yet, so...  
> Not the best way to get creative, right? So I asked myself what I wanted to write and just went with it. What's better to cure a writer's block than starting a new series (*sobbing*)?
> 
> I hope you all will love a tale as old as time and the adventure I have planned for cutie Bard the bowman! 
> 
> xoxo

When her father had suggested that the family could use a new start, surely he did not mean… this? 

Brea’s grey eyes glanced over the market water and she watched the people bustling about, chattering with one another while examining goods. Her platinum blonde hair hung in a loose braid over her shoulders. The embroidered green dress she had chosen this morning was still a bit too thin during this time of the year, but Brea had been determined to wear it. Her mother did not approve of her daughter’s choice, nor did Mîrhel, wife of Brenion, like the fact that her daughter hadn’t planned on wearing her winter coat as well. The loud, shrieky protests still rung in Brea’s ears. 

The eldest daughter of Brenion and Mîrhel shivered and drew the woolly, knitted shawl closer to her body. This place was so cold. Perhaps she should have listened to her mother anyway and brought her coat, but here she was… making her own mistakes. If anything, returning home and telling Mîrhel she was right, wasn’t an option. So for a moment, Brea faced the cold in stride and listened to the local fishermen banter about the weather conditions, their wives and other unimportant matters. 

She did not mean to come across as a spoiled brat, but from the moment her father had started preaching about the grand Esgaroth upon the Long Lake, she had imagined a collision of elven and human culture, a rich town which still bore the remnants of the dwarves who had occupied the area long ago. A majestic city, built upon the ruins of Dale.

Lake-town and its’ inhabitants however, was nothing like that. It was a poor place, the houses built upon structures of wooden poles and decks. The people solely relied on their trades with the elves of Mirkwood and the dwarves in the Iron hills, that is if you didn’t count the fish the lake had to offer. Everyone seemed to settle for a simple life and not a noble, meaningful one that (at least in Brea’s opinion) would be so much more satisfying. So as she regarded the fishermen and their merry banter, Brea wondered briefly if these people were even able to think beyond the daily struggle of survival, as the living conditions here were a lot more harsh than she was used to. She pursed her lips together. Compared to her former home of Minas Tirith, she couldn’t help but find Lake-town a bit… disappointing.

It was safe to say that the constant odour of dead fish and the earthly undertones of rotting wood weren’t helping Brea’s view of Lake-town. To make matters even worse, Esgaroth was a terribly cold place. Before, father always had claimed that there was nothing a warm hearth couldn’t cure, but it seemed they never had experienced this particular clammy cold that chilled you to the bones, for not even the winters in Minas Tirith were this wet. It didn’t matter how high you stoked the fire or how well dressed you were. Everyone suffered the same cold. 

So if their lives had turned so miserable during these past few weeks, why stay? Why would a family leave the relatively safe borders of Gondor and venture this far north? Why would they risk being robbed, or worse: being killed on the dangerous road towards their destiny? Mother had asked herself this question a hundred times and the answer had always been the same.  
There hadn’t been a choice, nor could they ever go back home. And for that, Brea was to blame.

A gust of wind travelled over the market water and Brea shivered once more. Though spring had finally set in, even on afternoons like this the weather conditions were treacherous. One could still easily catch a cold. Besides, her mother had insisted her eldest daughter should be back for teatime. She was lucky that Mîrhel had asked her to collect shoes from the cobbler anyway. Since her latest mishaps, Brea wasn’t allowed to go out without a chaperone. It didn’t matter how many times she told her parents that this was a different town, she would do things differently now… They still merely shook their heads and shooed her away. 

Brea continued her way around the market water again. The cobbler’s shop lied west of the market, near the town’s gatehouse. Her mother’s instructions had been clear: Brea should inspect the shoes before handing the townsman the money that was owed. If the repair wasn’t living up to the expectations, the poor soul should be payed less. Whatever these expectations might be…  
She heaved a sigh and trotted over the quays towards her destination. Just before the market, she took a left turn into a small street. She only had been in this part of town once, but if she remembered it correctly the cobbler occupied a shop just further along the way. She narrowed her eyes and tried to spot the little sign to make sure she was going the right direction. 

‘My lady Brea, daughter of Brenion.’ A nasty voice called just behind her.  
Brea whirled around and eyed the hateful man to whom this speech belonged to. The chap was of moderate height, had pitch black hair that was rather greasy and eyes that were dark and looming. Though the stubble on his cheeks did indicate that he did maintain his beard (or he wasn’t able to grow one, she wasn’t sure), he somehow had decided that sporting a unibrow was the way to attract the ladies. Surely this guy was unmarried, because if he would have had a wife, she surely would not let him creep around town looking like this. And definitely not in those dark, slimy clothing that should have been laundered weeks ago. 

‘Alfrid.’ She replied while suppressing a shiver. ‘How lovely to see you again.’  
‘Oh, the pleasure is all mine.’ He ensured her with a crooked smile, showing off the yellowest teeth in Middle Earth. ‘Your presence is always a delight.’  
She inclined her head, silently sending prayers to the Gods to let this man leave her alone. ‘Thank you.’  
‘So you’re out and about?’ Alfrid went on, his dark eyes piercing through hers. ‘On your own, I might add?’  
‘Our maid was busy and my mother needed someone to collect her shoes.’ Brea said. ‘I’m happy to help.’  
‘I’m sure you are. But I happen to know that your father has told the master you can’t go anywhere without a chaperone.’ The master’s deputy declared.  
Brea shrugged, not feeling the slightest inclination to let this nasty man stick his awful nose in her business. ‘I guess when we first moved here, my parents redeem Lake-town as less safe for young maidens like myself than our hometown of Minas Tirith. You see, you never know on which corner there might be an assailant lurking.’  
Alfrid thought on it for a second, but did not seem to include himself in the category described to him. ‘There are no scoundrels in this town, I daresay, miss. Except from the occasional bargeman.’  
‘That’s a relief.’ Brea answered before turning away. ‘I think my parents must feel the same, which explains why I’m allowed to run some errands. With that being said, I must be on my way now, good sir.’  
His hand grabbed her sleeve firmly, causing Brea to hiss in pain. ‘Not so hasty, miss.’ He told her. ‘The decks can be quite slippery in this part of town. I will gladly escort you.’

More slippery than the motives of this guy? Unlikely.

‘Oh, that is very kind of you, but you must have more important, pressing tasks that need tending to.’ Brea replied quickly, while gently pulling her arm away from his hold. ‘I’m sure I’ll manage.’

She did not wait for a reply and started walking in the way of the cobbler’s shop again. The heavier footsteps behind hers told her that Alfrid was quite the persevering type. She suppressed a sigh and quickened her pace.  
‘I saw your little sister today.’ Alfrid remarked.  
‘Oh?’ Brea murmured, finally setting her eyes on the sign, her destination.  
‘She was wandering the market with the eldest spawn of Bard.’ The master’s deputy told you. ‘I must warn you about that bargeman and his kin.’  
Though Brea wasn’t interested in the slightest, she did feel inclined to ask anyway. For Jen’s sake it was better if she knew something was wrong before their parents did. ‘What about them?’  
‘They are vile people, troublemakers. No respect for the authorities, so to speak. Your parents should not allow your sister to associate with that family.’

Brea paused and turned around to face the ugly man. Her grey eyes bore into his dark ones. She knew her sister had an excellent sense of character: Jen would never associate herself with the wrong people. Unlike her big sister, who only seemed to attract the worst of humanity itself. The prove of that point was standing right before her.  
‘I will talk to her.’ She finally replied rather haughtily. ‘But I am fairly sure-’  
Alfrid wasn’t looking at her anymore. Brea followed his gaze over the canal. 

There was a man standing on the deck on the other side. Though it seemed he was just minding his own business, arms folded and casually leaning against a wall of one of the homes, his glare was directed at the spot they stood. The man had a tall, strong build and dark hair that reached his shoulders. From such a distance she couldn’t tell the colour of his eyes, but they seemed mysteriously dark. A familiar yearning feeling settled in the pit of her stomach and Brea licked her lips.

‘Will you leave this poor woman alone, Alfrid?’ The man finally spoke in a gruff tone. ‘She clearly doesn’t want your affections.’  
‘This is the troublemaker I was telling you about, miss Brea!’ The master’s deputy spat. ‘He gives us nothing but revolts and misery!’  
Brea could not hide her grin and she immediately liked this bargeman. Not only was he very easy on the eye, Alfrid seemed to hate him. Perhaps if she became acquainted with this man, that rat would leave her alone. ‘It’s nice to meet you, master Bard.’ She said, while making a curtsey. ‘I am Brea, daughter of Brenion the merchant. We’re new in town.’  
‘The pleasure is mine.’ He replied, a rueful smile adorning his face. ‘I think I have seen you at the market with your mother a few times before, but we never spoke.’  
‘And let’s keep it that way, shall we!’ Alfrid broke in and he glared nastily at Bard before grabbing Brea’s arm and dragging her along with him. Brea shot a helpless glance behind her only to discover that the bargeman was gone. She winced when the master’s deputy squeezed her wrist too hard, but the latter one didn’t seem to notice. He paced over the decks, trotting the eldest daughter of Brenion along all while mumbling to himself.  
‘This beautiful young lady doesn’t need her reputation shattered by that smug, lowly piece of filth. I will tell the master what he-’  
Brea groaned, this time slowly peeling his cold, clammy fingers from her wrist. Alfrid didn’t seem to notice and went on grumbling about the wrongdoings of this poor Bard fellow. She couldn’t imagine what he had done to set a character like Alfrid off, but it surely would be something ridiculous. 

By the time she had freed herself from the master’s deputy’s slimy touch, they were standing before the cobbler’s shop.  
‘Here we are, miss Brea.’ Alfrid made a little bow and showed her his huge, yellow teeth again. ‘I will wait outside to escort you home.’  
‘Oh, that’s not necessary.’ Brea said sweetly. ‘I will probably need to stop by the tailor anyway. You see, these shoes only go with special undergarments. My mother is quite specific about these-’  
Alfrid held up his hands defensively and smirked. ‘Enough said, my lady. I don’t need to know about underclothing, especially not your mother’s. I’ll leave you here to run your- errm- lady errands.’

Exactly. She had been counting on that. You see, people like Alfrid did get nervous whenever women addressed women’s topics. Brea smiled innocently before making a little curtsey.  
‘You are too kind, mister Alfrid.’ She crooned. ‘Now forgive me, for I most hurry. My mother will be worried if I don’t make it back before teatime.’  
Alfrid bowed before her. ‘This is where we part ways, miss Brea. I’ll see you tomorrow, at the master’s house.’

Good Gods, she had totally forgotten about that. The master had invited father and his family over for dinner. Up until now, Brea hadn’t even thought of the possibility of Alfrid being there. Of course he would. And after being unnecessary kind to the guy, she probably had to deal with the consequences of that tomorrow. With a deep frown on her face, she watched the master’s deputy creep away over the decks. Jenessa was bound to have the best time once she discovered what her big sister had set in motion, unwillingly attracting the worst suitors of mankind.

There had been one exception to the rule. She glanced at the direction where Bard had been standing.  
Well… make that two.

♦♦♦♦

‘Goodness girl, what took you so long!’ Her mother cried from the reading room as soon as their servant opened the front door to let Brea in. ‘I almost did send poor Catherine out to tell your dad you were missing!’  
‘Don’t fret, mother.’ Brea protested loudly while handing the shoes and her shawl over to the servant. ‘The master’s deputy slowed me down, that’s all.’

There was a short silence.  
‘Ah, you mean that chap… what’s his name…’ Mîrhel murmured, barely audible.  
‘Alfrid.’ Brea replied as she made her way through the hall and entered the reading room. Her mom was sitting on their chaise longue, the couch in opposite of her surprisingly empty. In the table between stood a porcelain tea set on a silver platter.  
‘Come here, my dear.’ She said and she patted on the spot directly next to her. ‘You tell me all about your encounter with that man, while we wait for Jenessa. Haven’t you seen her? And have you been kind to him?’  
‘Who?’  
Mîrhel huffed and started to pour her daughter a cup of tea. ‘That deputy of course!’  
‘Yes, though he was a bit persistent and wouldn’t leave me alone.’ Brea said.  
Her mother rewarded her with a bright smile. ‘Good girl. We have to keep those people on our side, so make sure you always behave impeccably towards them.’ 

Brea couldn’t promise she’d do that if the guy became too friendly, but she gave her mother an assuring nod anyway.  
‘I will, mother. Where’s Jen again?’  
‘Your sister’s name is still Jenessa.’ Mother scolded her eldest daughter, though with a smile. ‘She went looking for you, to make sure you’d be back for tea. Maybe she got lost, or she bumped into that Alfredo, just like you did… Goodness, nothing would have happened to her, would it?’  
Brea licked her lips and for a moment she pondered the possibilities where Jen might be. Then she remembered something Alfrid had mentioned. Her heart skipped a beat. 

‘Mother, I know where she might be.’ Brea said breathlessly.  
‘Where?’ Mîrhel demanded. ‘Tell me at once, then we can send Catherine out and fetch her before the tea is cold. CATHERINE!’  
They heard some shuffling and a loud clang in the kitchen, before poor Catherine hastened through the hall towards the Missus. She shyly prodded her head around the corner into the reading room.  
‘You called, Missus?’  
‘Yes. Can you fetch Jenessa for me? She’s at-’ Mother paused and glanced at her eldest daughter. ‘Brea?’  
‘Bard the bargeman, though I’m not sure.’  
‘Who is that?’ Mîrhel demanded. ‘Do we know him?’  
Brea shrugged and Catherine merely bowed before retreating. ‘I will get her at once, Missus.’  
Brea took a sip of her tea and grimaced as she burned her tongue. It would take at least twenty minutes before she could drink the beverage properly. ‘Mother…’ she tried. ‘Since the tea is still boiling hot and Catherine should be preparing our meals, shall I collect Jen for you?’  
‘Are you exploiting your newly found freedom, darling?’  
‘Maybe.’ Brea said truthfully. ‘Or maybe I’m just trying to help. You know father hates it when he has to wait for dinner.’  
‘That seems like a fair remark.’ Mother pondered. ‘And to reward your thoughtfulness, I will allow you to go. But before you do, you have to make me a few promises.’  
‘Yes, mother.’ Brea beamed. ‘Anything.’  
‘You go straight to wherever your little sister is, fetch her and then come directly home.’  
‘Yes, mother.’  
‘No funny business. No snooping around other places.’  
‘Yes, mother.’  
‘And no flirting with young men.’ Mîrhel demanded. ‘Not even Alfredo.’  
‘You mean Alfrid?!’ Brea cried. ‘Mother! Why would I even-’  
Her mother shook her head. ‘I have to make sure, Brea. You have proven yourself to be far more cunning than your father and I could ever have imagined. I don’t want you to drag our reputation down the drain once again, not even in this wretched town.’  
‘MOTHER!’  
‘Don’t use such a tone against me, young lady.’ Mîrhel rebuked. ‘Now go, before our servant-’ A strangled groan erupted from her throat when the front door fell shut. ‘There she goes, poor lass. Hurry, Brea…’

♦♦♦♦

Thus Brea set out once again on the same route, but this time she passed the market place instead of venturing left. After inquiring at a tapestry stand, Brea learned that Bard lived in the northern part of the city. The merchant told her that if she turned left before the town’s hall canal and kept walking straight ahead to the outskirt of the city, she’d find the bargeman’s home.

So with those instructions in mind, Brea walked around the market water until the town’s hall and the canal that laid before it came into view. Brea halted and glanced over her surroundings before taking a left turn. The waterway that ran along the right side of this particular quay was much smaller and the various boats that were docked here made it even more narrow.  
In order to inspect the homes that stood directly on her left, Brea slowed her pace. The people living on the right had built small, wooden bridges allowing them pass the canal to their home safely. Brea enjoyed the various wooden carvings adorning both the homes and bridges. She was told that at some point, the water would broaden into open water and the bargeman’s home lied directly behind this small square. Furthermore, she would have to enter a few steps leading up to a blue front door, that would appear on her left and it was described to have a diamond shaped window in it. 

It didn’t take her long to find the house. Brea took the flight of stairs and the door was there, but when her fist reached for the hard wood, she noticed her hand was trembling.

In fact, her whole body was. Her heart hammered in her chest and Brea was sure that the people inside this home could hear it slamming. Her breathing was shallow, like she ran all the way here like a-  
Oh, stop it! She gritted her teeth, mentally scolding herself for being such a lightheaded, foolish girl. What made her believe that this handsome bargeman she just got acquainted with, lived here? For all she knew, there could live two Bard’s in this town. Furthermore, if Bard turned out to be the one she though he was, he was said to have children so there probably was a wife in his life. In any case, he wouldn’t be interested in a girl like her. 

And with that, she knocked firmly on the wooden door.

♦♦♦♦

The first thing she noticed, were his eyes.

Bard the bargeman easily possessed the most gorgeous hazelnut coloured eyes she’d ever seen. Brea’s breath hitched as she took in the man who was standing in the door opening. He had dark, messy hair that was kept out of his face with a string of cloth at the back of his head. His fine cheekbones were distracting and though Brea usually wasn’t that fond of moustaches and soul patches, somehow this man’s carefully trimmed facial hair made him only more desirable. The greying hair at his temples betrayed the fact he must be well in his thirties. 

He was wearing sturdy brown boots adorned with fur, black breeches, a light brown woollen tunic and a long, leather coat in a slightly darker shade. The woollen tunic had a low v-neckline, showing some chest hair and the grey undergarment he was wearing underneath. Her thighs clenched and Brea bit her lip.  
Goodness, she hoped she wasn’t showing her desires too much… How was this possible anyway? Before, there had only been one man who had made her feel like this, but she was still mourning him. How could another stir the same in her to the point she was just staring at him like he was a piece of fine meat?

Though there was no denying that in fact, he was. How rude of her…

‘Oh.’ Bard murmured as he took her in just as she had done. For a second he looked more alarmed and flustered than anything, but that expression faded quickly and was replaced with a smug smile.  
‘Miss Brea.’ He greeted her. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of encountering you on my doorstep?’  
‘Just Brea is fine, master Bard.’ She replied, a little out of breath. ‘I apologize for disturbing you, but I’m looking for my sister. A little worm told me she was forming rather unsavoury relations. When I asked him what he meant, he pointed me in the direction of your home.’  
Bard grinned. ‘Unsavoury relations? Why would he think that?’  
‘The real question is what you have done to make him hate you.’ Brea mused. ‘I might need your advice on that matter.’  
He stepped aside and motioned for Brea to come in. ‘Ah, yes. He was quite determined this afternoon, wasn’t he?’  
‘That’s an understatement.’ She said. ‘Is he always like that?’  
‘Yes, though women in this town know him too well to let him come close like you did.’  
Brea placed her hands on her hips and eyed him defiantly. ‘I’m capable of handling myself, thank you very much.’  
The bargeman chuckled. ‘I didn’t say you couldn’t. But you were too polite to him today.’  
Brea smiled sweetly and stepped over the threshold. Bard’s home wasn’t as big as theirs, but it was a cosy one. A grand table and two benches dominated the middle of the room. Directly on Brea’s left was a wooden staircase that led a level down. In the far left corner of the room stood a bed that could fit at least three people. At Brea’s right, stood a small kitchen where two girls were busying themselves. 

‘Any tips for when I have to keep him at armlength tomorrow during dinner at the master’s home?’ she asked Bard, giving him a teasing glance.  
He winced. ‘Are you sure you want to enter the dragon’s lair?’  
‘I’ve heard there lives a dragon in that mountain, is that-’

‘Oh! That stupid dinner! I forgot about that!’ her sister’s voice squeaked.  
Brea turned on her heels and discovered her sister, Jenessa. The raven haired girl with the most beautiful mahogany toned skin erupted from the kitchen, wearing mittens. Her dark eyes were sparkling with joy. She obviously had been preparing something with the other girls before Brea came in. The two girls had to be sisters, as both of them had dark blonde hair, blue eyes and the same facial expressions. 

‘Hey Bree!’ Jenessa beamed.  
Brea heaved a sigh. ‘Jen, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? And it’s not a stupid dinner, it’s a necessary evil.’  
‘You don’t make it sound any better, Bree.’ Her sister grinned.  
Brea groaned and turned to Bard. ‘I’m so sorry. Jenessa can sometimes be oblivious to social conventions and overstay her welcome-’  
Bard shook his head and gave her a reassuring smile that did send a pleasant jolt through her abdomen. ‘It’s fine, really. In fact, we’re happy she’s here. My eldest daughter, Sigrid, was planning on making apple pie and she happened to come across your sister at the market.’  
‘She was lost.’ Sigrid filled in with a grin.  
Jenessa cried indignantly. ‘Was not!’  
‘You were!’ The youngest sister chortled. ‘You were looking rather sad.’  
Brea’s little sister heaved a sigh. ‘Fine. I was lost. Happy?’  
‘We won’t tease you too much with it, promised.’ Sigrid giggled. ‘But only after we have found out if your addition to ma’s recipe is a success.’  
‘It surely smells delicious!’ The little sister proclaimed.  
‘That’s Tilda.’ Bard informed Brea with a fond smile. ‘She’s my youngest.’  
Sigrid gave Tilda a few plates from the rack that stood on the counter. ‘Right Tilly, can you set the table for six?’  
The girl nodded and set out to work.  
‘I’ll boil some water for the tea.’ Jenessa said happily. Brea watched as the girls bustled around her and Jen, accepting these strangers in their midst easily and entertaining them with their cheerful banter. She turned to Bard, who was eyeing the scene as well, an amused expression adorning his face. 

‘I am so sorry my little sister bashed into your home.’ Brea whispered. ‘The trick is not to encourage her, because she will to take over your whole household.’  
‘At least she can’t be worse than Alfrid, can she?’ Bard said casually and Brea suppressed a snort. 

‘What is she saying?’ Jen demanded noisily as she put the pie on the table. ‘Is she trying to be the responsible, older sister again?’  
‘That’s my job.’ Brea told her. ‘Especially when you are misbehaving.’  
‘Am I? Shall I inform master Bard about your indiscretions in Minas Tirith, Bree?’ Jen inquired with a wide grin.  
‘Please don’t.’ Brea warned. ‘Or I’ll have to beg mother to trade you for another, more grateful adoptive sister.’  
‘She’s adopted?’ Bard asked with a frown.  
‘Her parents were friends with mine.’ Brea explained. ‘When they died thirteen years ago, my parents took Jen in.’  
‘And she regrets that decision every day!’ Jen complained as she was guarding the kettle until it would start to boil. Behind her, Sigrid grabbed six mugs from the cupboard and a tin containing dried tea leaves.  
Brea crossed her arms and watched her sister with narrowed eyes. ‘Jen, please tell this poor family you are joking!’

‘Da!’ Someone ran up the stairs and a few moments later, a teenage boy with dark hair and the same dark eyes as his father came into view. ‘I finished fixing the nets.’ He stopped in his tracks and eyed the newcomer curiously. ‘Who’s this?’  
‘Brea, this is my son Bain.’ Bard said. ‘Bain, this is miss Brea, miss Jenessa’s sister.’  
‘Oh, hello.’ The boy replied, suddenly a bit nervously. He quickly turned on his heels and stumbled down the stairs again.  
‘Nice to meet you!’ Brea called after him.  
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s up with him these days.’ Bard murmured. ‘He’ll come around.’  
‘Don’t worry about it.’ 

Once everything was all set, the Bardlings took their place around the table and even Jenessa settled rather quickly as if she already belonged there. Brea stood there, a bit unsure what to do, until Bard turned and sent her a smile.  
‘Will you join us, miss Brea?’ he inquired gently, gesturing at the place on the other end of the table. 

Brea knew that she should have said no. She should have told them that mother was waiting for her and Jen to return, but… Brea’s brain seemed to have forgotten that information. She couldn’t remember a damn thing, only the fact that those gorgeous dark eyes were pleading her to stay, offering her a place at his table.  
And the best thing about that, was that there was no wife in sight. So her lips had formed the words before she could even stop herself from saying it.  
‘Yes, please.’

♦♦♦♦


	2. A boat full of gravy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 2, in which Brea encounters more gravy than she bargained for.  
> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> xoxo

When Jenessa prodded her big sister’s waist for the third time to help regain attentiveness to the conversations around the dinner table, Brea knew she was doing it again. After everything that had happened, she had sworn never to become a victim of excessive daydreams and complete lack of focus again. But here she was… Going down the drain already. 

Unfortunately, Brea knew exactly what was going to happen. Soon her usual calmness and practical view of life would be thrown out of the window and she would start dedicating her time by trying to catch a glimpse of the object of her affections. She could only hope that this time her feelings were not reciprocated. Because if this was going to be anything like last time, she had a problem. 

And problems like that, as the case of Ruthron had taught her, should be avoided like the plague…

It all started last spring, just over a year ago.  
On a particularly dreary morning, Mîrhel had dragged her eldest daughter to a gathering in the city hall. Brea didn’t care for politics, nor did the latest fashions of court interest her in the slightest, but her mother had been quite adamant. So Mîrhel’s eldest did what any obedient daughter would do. 

As the noble ladies chatted away about unimportant matters, Brea’s mind had travelled to the interesting material she had read in her father’s study earlier this morning. The consequences would be dire if father ever found out she had been reading in the surgical handbook he had bought for his ever growing collection, but that didn’t frighten her. After all, she had just turned twenty-four.

According to Mîrhel, Brea was already past the proper age of procuring a suitable match, but Brea did not wish to marry- at least not yet. She was eager to learn more about the real world she lived in, not the ever boring topics the noble, married women confined themselves to. The purpose of life should be to enlighten oneself, not waste time talking about… embroideries. 

So while her mind was considering the texts she had read, her gaze had travelled through the room and stopped at a handsome palace guard in the nearest corner. He possessed the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen and she could not help but stare at him for a few seconds, maybe even wondering who he was.

That answer came sooner than she would have guessed, in the form of mister handsome guard’s future wife. Apparently, the most ignorant girl in the room also turned out to be his betrothed. She could not stop bragging about her impending union with her Ruthron, the son of the head of the Citadel. Brea thought the girl was a brat and decided if that was the guard’s type -no matter how handsome his looks-, she should stay far away from him. 

Ruthron later had told Brea he never cared for his future wife and he always desperately was seeking for ways to avoid her. They had been betrothed by a special agreement, made by their parents when they were mere infants. Ruthron had lost count how many times he had argued with his dad about this ridiculous contract, but no matter how much he tried, his father could not be swayed. Ruthron would have to marry Margery.

But love knows no bounderies. And when Ruthron first laid his eyes on Brenion’s eldest daughter on that rainy morning, he knew. 

Convincing Brea to give him a chance hadn’t been easy, but before they both knew it they were falling hard. In hindsight, Brea believed that falling in love with Ruthron was as easy as falling asleep, how could someone not? He was an handsome guy, proud of his heritage and loyal to the ones he loved. He could be mischievous at times and made her laugh even when she was in a foul mood. They shared interests like medicine (a profession Ruthron’s father hadn’t allowed his son to pursue) and could talk for hours. But more importantly- he didn’t see her as the daughter of a wealthy merchant, but just as Brea. When she was with him, she felt alive. When he held her, the world shrunk unto the two of them. She was sure she’d never experience a love like this again, which was why she was to prepared to gamble with her life, her reputation, to risk it all for a chance to be together.

But in the end, not even her purest intentions were able to save her lover from his ultimate fate... 

‘Brea!’ Mîrhel insisted with a hiss, alarming her eldest daughter. ‘The master asked you a question!’  
‘Oh!’ She murmured, quickly raising her gaze and meeting the master’s unpleasant stare. Ruthron’s handsome face disappeared and Brea was back at the stuffy dining room in the town’s hall again.  
‘Forgive me, uncle. I was appreciating the rich flavours of the meal you so kindly provided tonight…’ She smiled innocently. ‘I simply lost track of all else…’

There was a short silence, in which the whole room seemed to hold their breath while waiting for the master’s reaction. Brea smiled even brighter and relief washed over her body when her uncle started to laugh.  
‘You’re forgiven, my child.’ He boomed. ‘I’m glad you and I have the same, refined taste, my dear.’

Ugh. Hardly.  
Brea eyed the fat, greasy red-haired man as he happily devoured another piece of meat before looking down at her own plate. She then shot a glance at her mother (‘Please, don’t make me eat this!’) and finally settled for the inevitable. Just a few more bites… 

The remnants of the meat pie on her plate didn’t smell anything like the apple pie she had enjoyed yesterday. It had been the best pastry she had tasted in all her life and since she originated from the big city of Minas Tirith, that truly said something. The Bardlings had been too kind, allowing her and Jen to stay for over an hour. The family had kept a lively discussion going about various topics and as Sigrid and Jen tried to outsmart each other, Brea more than once caught the bargeman’s gaze. There had been this soft, sweet expression in his eyes that caused more reaction inside her than she’d like to admit…

Brea suppressed a shiver as she picked up a piece of meat with her fork. She didn’t know what part of a poor animal this was, but since her uncle had a rather unsavoury preference for bollocks, she really did not like to find out anyway. Careful to spill none of it on her favourite light blue dress, she opened her mouth and caught the food between her teeth. When she saw her father looking rather sternly at her, she started chewing. There was far too much gravy in this pie. Who even came up with this horrid thing? 

‘Would you like some gravy with that, miss?’ Alfrid lisped in her ear. Brea couldn’t help herself and jerked to the side, almost ending up on Jen’s lap. The master’s deputy was hovering over her, holding a stained gravy boat in his right hand. She smiled faintly, but then shook her head before swallowing the big lump of meat.  
Of course. Alfrid. Who else in this wretched town? 

‘You’re too kind, but I’m all set.’ She ensured him. ‘Thank you.’  
Alfrid bowed deeply, not aware that he was making her uncomfortable. He smelled of sweat, fish and gravy. Brea held her breath and fixated her eyes on her plate. She had managed her way through most of the disgusting filling and now was left with the crust, which was both doughy and tough. A quick estimate told her she had to suffer three more bites, that is if their host hadn’t prepared something for dessert. 

If she had been paying attention to Alfrid instead of the sad content on her plate, she would have noticed that his eyes were on the soft swelling of her breasts beneath the low neckline of her dress, not on what was in his hands. His grip on the sauceboat loosened. 

As it tilted, all the gravy fell in one big lump over the edge, splashing on its poor victim below.

‘Oh!’ Brea cried out, absolutely horrified by the thick fluid running over her shoulder. It dribbled over her dress before most of it disappeared beneath her bodice.  
‘Oh, miss- miss Brea!’ Alfrid stammered. ‘My sincerest apologies. Let me help you-’

Before Brea knew it, total chaos developed around her. Alfrid tried to get the gravy boat out of harm’s way, but managed to swing the last of its contents on the floor and then quickly exited the room while shouting for the town’s hall poor servant. Jen and her mom simultaneously rushed from their seats to help out their kin, as Brea was already dabbing the most tainted places with her napkin. 

In her haste to aid her daughter, Mîrhel did not notice the puddle of gravy on the floor and stepped on it. Though the fluid could not possibly be as slippery as Alfrid, it did manage to take its victim down. With a loud cry, Mîrhel slipped and fell backwards, her head barely missing the edge of the table. Brenion cursed and shot up to help his wife. He moved more careful, but still had to steady himself against the dining table in order not to trip. Brea got up too, suddenly forgetting about the state she was in, and crouched down to check on her mother.

‘Mother! Are you alright?’  
Mîrhel smiled sourly, leaning on her husband while he helped her up into her chair. ‘Yes, Brea. I am. Just a fright, that’s all.’ 

From the head of the table, the master of Laketown had been watching the whole scene enveloping before his eyes, yet he still hadn’t said or done anything to comfort his guests. As Brenion was fussing over Mîrhel, Brea looked up at the man and a gulf of hatred resonated through her. He was a spiteful, vile man and she couldn’t believe that her father had let himself persuaded by this despicable person to move to Laketown…

‘What a waste of all that gravy!’ the master suddenly boomed.  
Brenion and his family stared at him. Next to her older sister, Jen shuffled with her napkin in an attempt to hide her silly grin. Brea heaved a sigh and shot her little sister a glance. Leave it up to Jen to find humour in a rather peculiar situation…

‘Agreed, brother.’ Brenion finally said, though hesitantly. ‘It is. But who would have thought that a gravy boat could lead to such an amusing order of events!’

Both men started to laugh and then resumed their conversation. Brea caught her mother’s gaze, the latter barely capable of hiding her emotions of pure shock. They listened in silence as the clattering noises in the hallway grew louder. 

Alfrid returned, with the town’s hall female servant in tow. Her arms were filled with rags and somehow she also managed to carry a bucket filled with water.  
‘Clean this up.’ Alfrid said nastily to the servant while roughly shoving her out of his way. The woman staggered, fighting hard to keep her balance.  
Brea opened her mouth to say something about his absolute rudeness, but below the table her mom kicked her daughter’s shins. 

‘We will sort this out in a second, miss Brea.’ Alfrid chatted on, grabbing a rag and drenching it with water. He then moved towards her. ‘I have just the-’  
‘That will not be necessary!’ Brea hissed furiously, while grabbing his wrist and keeping his filthy fingers and wet cloth away from her.  
‘But there’s still-’ the master’s deputy began.  
‘I can see that, I have eyes.’ Brea cut him off rather haughtily. ‘I fear this dress needs to be washed entirely to get all the stains out.’

♦♦♦♦

The next morning, Brea left with Jen to walk across town. Though Mîrhel still wasn’t too happy with her daughters strolling through Laketown without a proper chaperone (especially after coming home way past teatime only two days ago), the events of last night had exhausted all of them. When Brenion resumed the evening like nothing had happened, Mîrhel had stepped up and asked her brother-in-law if she and her daughters could be excused for the rest of the night. Begrudgingly, the master of Laketown had allowed them to go.  
Alfrid had been watching them leave and Brea had felt nasty glare burning in her back until she had reached the safety of their home.

But all was over now and the sisters were safely wandering over the docks. Brea watched a few boatmen heaving cargo from their ships and enjoyed the soft breeze on her face, as Jen was having an animated conversation with one of the boatmen’s wives. 

‘How was it?’ A soft voice suddenly behind Brea inquired. ‘Please tell me it was as bad as it sounded.’  
Brea giggled and swirled around. Her grey eyes met with Bard’s hazelnut ones.  
‘It’s good to see you alive and well.’ Bard said. ‘When I spoke Hilda-Bianca, she made it sound like you were devoured by the man himself.’  
‘Oh, there was gravy everywhere.’ Brea informed him, not surprised by now the whole town knew of last night’s events. ‘After rushing home, I took two baths and another one this morning, but it’s still there. As is the smell of Alfrid. My sincerest apologies.’  
He sniffed before sending her a reassuring smile. ‘No, I think you’re fine.’  
Brea pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes. ‘That’s because you’re not close enough to me.’  
The bargeman furrowed his brows together and took a step closer, until the distance between them was hardly ten centimetres. It was impossible not to notice the rancid flavour she bore with her, so she was surprised he still was by her side. His scent was far more pleasant anyway… it was light and heavy at the same time, somehow reminding her of a long, lovely walk in the woods. Brea’s heart jumped and she licked her lips.  
‘Still nothing.’ Bard spoke softly. ‘I’d say you rather smell of flowers than a boatful of gravy.’  
‘You are lying, master Bard!’  
He smiled faintly before leaning in. His whisper tickled her ear. ‘No, I am not.’

Her heart was racing inside her chest now. Brea watched his gorgeous features and briefly wondered why she hadn’t seen his wife yet. And how had he not been claimed by another lady if the children’s mother wasn’t around anymore…

Bard’s reassuring smile suddenly turned into a scowl and he reached for her neck. ‘What’s that?’ he murmured. ‘Is that…?’  
‘What?’ she gulped, panic assembling in her throat. 

Oh goodness! Did she forget to scrub someplace? Or worse: did he somehow hear her shameful thoughts?

The bargeman smirked, his fingers ghosting over the skin behind her ear. Brea suppressed a shiver.  
‘Just kidding, miss…’ he said with a small smile. They were still standing inappropriately close to each other, but neither showed the inclination to move away. Brea’s skin was still burning on the places where he had touched her and she found it particularly difficult to breathe.  
‘So.’ She murmured softly. ‘You’re relishing in my misfortune. How ungentlemanlike.’  
He chuckled lowly. ‘Well, maybe Alfrid was right about me and my family…’  
‘Really?’ Brea inquired. ‘At least you haven’t poured gravy down my neck, master Bard.’  
‘Not yet, miss Brea. Not yet.’ He mused with a sly smile, earning a giggle from her. 

Somewhere in the distance, Brea heard Jenessa laughing. Rather annoyed by the disturbance, she glanced over at her sister. Jen now was charming one of the younger lads working at the docks. Brea heaved a weary sigh before turning to Bard. 

‘I’m sorry. I have to go save my sister, before she ruins her reputation.’  
‘By merely conversing with that poor lad?’ Bard frowned. ‘I know him, he’s from a decent family.’  
Brea groaned. ‘Oh, that’s not the problem. You don’t know Jen.’  
‘She seems like a passionate, kind young woman.’ He said. ‘Someone who knows what she wants.’  
‘That’s true.’ Brea replied. ‘But she’s a dreamer too. And that often leads her to forgetting there’s such a thing as etiquette and a fragile woman’s reputation. She just follows her instincts and let those guide her.’  
‘So she lives her life without regret.’ Bard concluded. ‘Has she learned that from you?’  
Brea shook her head. ‘I tried that once. It did not work out.’

‘Ah! There you are!’ A nasty voice called out over the docks. ‘Miss Brea!’  
They turned around and much to her shock, Alfrid was making his way towards them. Bard smiled politely, but his eyes flashed with a much darker emotion. Brea grabbed a hold of the bargeman’s sleeve, making him turn to her in surprise.  
‘Do not leave me alone with that horrible man.’ She begged. ‘I’m fairly sure he’ll want to make amends with me and I’m not inclined to accept anything he has to offer.’  
‘You could just tell him that, miss.’ Bard declared. ‘The trick is not to be subtle.’  
She shook her head. ‘I can’t, the master of this town is-’

‘Well well…’ Alfrid said maliciously while forcing himself into their conversation. ‘Who do we have here? If it isn’t Bard, our bargeman. Don’t you have work to do?’  
‘Always a delight to see you, Alfrid.’ Bard replied coldly. ‘I could ask the same of you.’  
‘I’m tending to the master’s business, which is none of yours anyway.’ The master’s deputy retorted. ‘I came her in search of miss Brea. I need to speak to her.’  
‘What for? I believe already told you that I don’t need another apology.’ Brea said. ‘It’s alright, it was an accident and I’m over it.’  
Alfrid inclined his head. ‘You’re too kind, miss. But I came here to inform you I’ve ordered the tailor to make you a new dress. It’s the least I can do after ruining your last one.’

For a moment, Brea stared at him. But Alfrid merely peered back at her. He did not start to cackle, nor did he explain to her it was a joke. He just seemed deadly serious. She shuffled on her feet. Though she did not want to accept this outrageous apology, she knew she had no choice.  
‘No, you’re the one who is too kind.’ She conceded. ’I’m glad to accept your offer.’  
Alfrid grinned and bowed shortly before turning his attention to Bard again. ‘Get to work, bargeman.’ He sneered. ‘Don’t you have mouths to feed?’  
Bard narrowed his eyes. His jaw was clenched and Brea watched him as his gaze bore through the master’s deputy. There was a short silence, before Alfrid gave in and stalked off.  
‘Be sure to give the tailor your measurements, miss Brea.’ He shouted at her before disappearing in the busy streets again.

Brea turned to the bargeman, who still looked like he was ready to punch a certain someone in the face.  
‘Hey.’ She said softly and without thinking her fingers reached out to his arm once more. ‘He’s not worth it.’  
Bard relaxed under her touch and smiled gently. ‘Well, at least he won’t order a dress for me. Didn’t you just say you weren’t inclined to accept anything?’  
‘I wasn’t.’ She muttered. His body warmth under her fingers made her aware of the little pulses that had started vibrate through her hands. It was a pleasant feeling, though it completely distracted her from their conversation.  
‘Then why did you?’  
She peered at him through her lashes. ‘Did what?’  
‘Accept that dress.’ He mused.  
‘Oh. Yes.’ She blurted out, quickly moving her hand away. ‘My father. He will have my head if I’m rude to anyone influential, even someone despicable as Alfrid.’  
’And that’s exactly why your father shouldn’t care about him.’  
‘Maybe.’  
He cleared his throat. ‘Well miss, I fear I have to leave you here. As much as I dislike that horrible creature, he’s right. I do have work to do.’  
She nodded shortly and took a step back. ‘Of course.’  
‘In the meantime…’ he advised. ‘Do mind any gravy boats coming your way, will you?’  
Brea grinned and waved. ‘I promise, good sir.’ 

She watched him boarding his boat which was docked nearby. He was moving with grace and certainty, clearly knowing his way around the boat and the waters. Once all was set, he reached for the push pole that was secured at the back end of the boat. Before he set off to the lake, the bargeman turned to look at the docks once more and caught her gaze. Brea bit her lip and couldn’t help but to smile foolishly. 

‘Did you know his wife died?’ Jen suddenly hummed in Brea’s ear. ‘He was so heartbroken that he never remarried.’  
‘Jenessa!’ Brea cried out indignantly, ignoring the pleasant jolt in her abdomen. ‘Why would you say such an awful thing?!’  
Jen shrugged. ‘I just wanted to give you some good news after the disaster yesterday.’  
‘How is someone’s wife dying good news?!’ Brea said. ‘Who even told you that?’  
Her little sister pursed her lips together. ‘Sigrid did. I asked her about her mother and she explained that their ma died eleven years ago, shortly after giving birth to Tilda.’  
Brea watched Bard and his boat disappear on the lake. ‘That must have been absolutely devastating for them.’ She whispered. ‘Not to mention the burden Tilda will carry with her for the rest of her life…’  
‘Luckily she still has her da, and her big brother and sister.’ Jen commented. ‘They are all very close.’  
‘I’ve noticed.’ Brea agreed. ‘They are a beautiful family.’  
Jen glanced at her sister knowingly. ‘You fancy him, don’t you?’  
‘What?’ Brea shrieked, her cheeks already burning up. ‘Why would you think that?’  
‘The way you look at him.’ Her sister explained. ‘I’ve seen that same gaze with-’  
‘Do not say his name.’ Brea hissed. ‘I warn you.’  
‘Okay!’ Jen quickly gave in, holding up her hands in surrender. ‘I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.’  
Brea heaved a sigh. ‘I know, Jenny. But believe me, I do not fancy Bard. Sure, I like him, but I also adore his family. I think they’re good people who deserve a lot more respect from the master.’  
Jen pulled her sister into an hug. ‘It’s the fact that they’re good people, that gets them into trouble. Sigrid is worried that her dad - I mean master Bard -’  
‘You seem to share a lot of thoughts with your new friend.’ Brea teased. ‘What’s up with that?’  
Jen giggled happily. ‘Yes, she has an amazing vibe to her, just like her dad. When I met her at the market, I instantly knew I would like her very much…’

♦♦♦♦

The next few weeks, Brea and Jen received more freedom. After everything that had happened in Minas Tirith (and not even taking their recent tea party in account), they both did not understand what had made their mother loosen the reigns, but they knew it was better not to ask. So instead, they enjoyed their renewed privileges.  
Jen was often out and about in the town, spending time with Sigrid and Tilda. Brea enjoyed to take a daily walk in the early hours, because it meant Alfrid wasn’t there to harass her.

It also meant she would often run into Bard. Though Brea would rather die than to admit it, these daily short talks were the reason she was venturing outside anyway. He appeared in her dreams every night and if she could increase the chance of bumping into him, she’d gladly take it. 

To ease her conscience (and an attempt to slam down any suspicion), Brea didn’t mind to run errands for her mother. That even sometimes meant to collect Jen from Bard’s home, which was a delight. 

Brea knew she had to set her priorities straight, but she couldn’t see anything wrong with their friendship. Sure, maybe her motivations were slightly discreditable, but Bard was the representation of a perfectly honourable guy. He always was polite to her, and his kindness knew no boundaries. She also learned his mind was bright and as quick as a whip. In fact, when Bard wasn’t keeping his family safe and well-fed, he liked to pursue other interests like reading and archery. 

There had been a few moments in which she had wondered if he was actually flirting with her, but each time it took her a few seconds to gather the courage to ask him what he meant and by then he already had changed the subject. 

On this particular late afternoon, Brea had just collected her new dress from the tailor (that is, the dress Alfrid had picked out for her) and was making her way towards her home when she bumped into Hilda-Bianca. Ever since the dark haired woman, who was always wearing this strange ornate hat, had prevented Brea from paying too much at the market, Brea had developed a tight bond with her. 

‘Hello Brea!’ Hilda-Bianca said with a gentle smile. ‘It’s strange to see you here, after what happened to your sister just an hour ago. Is she well?’  
Brea felt the blood draining from her face and she almost dropped her package on the wooden docks. ‘I’ve been out all afternoon. What happened to Jen?’  
‘She tripped and fell in the water.’ Hilda-Bianca explained. ‘It happens to the best of us.’  
‘My sister can’t swim.’ Brea fretted. ‘Is she alright?’  
‘Yes, we noticed. Which is odd don’t you think?’ her friend said. ‘But not to worry, Bard just arrived in time. He dove in straight away and carried her to your home.’  
Brea shook her head. ‘We grew up in Minas Tirith, so we never had the need to. I learned it only last year, from…’ 

She swallowed her last words. It had been Ruthron who taught her how to swim, during their secret getaways to Osgiliath… 

‘No matter. Thank you, Hilda. I must go now!’  
She stuck the package under her arm, gathered the seams of her dress in her hands and broke into a run.

♦♦♦♦

When she finally reached her home, she was out of breath. She rushed through the backdoor, before slamming it in its frame. She threw the package containing her new dress on the kitchen counter and was ready to run upstairs when-

In her haste, she hadn’t noticed that Bard was sitting near the hearth. He was holding a cup containing a warm beverage and seemed to be wearing some of her father’s clothing.  
‘Oh!’ she gasped, her cheeks flushing. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, master Bard.’  
The bargeman raised from his chair and smiled gently. ‘It’s fine, miss.’  
‘I just heard… How’s Jen? And how are you?’ Brea worried. ‘And what happened?’  
Bard put his cup away and moved through the kitchen towards her.  
‘Jen is fine. She’s upstairs in bed and your parents are with her.’ He assured her. ‘She told me she wasn’t watching where her feet were going and before she knew it, she was in the water.’  
‘She can’t swim.’ Brea mumbled. ‘We never learned, it seemed insignificant to do so… Until now.’  
‘Luckily I was just done for the day, which meant I was near.’ Bard continued. ‘She wasn’t in the water for long.’

Brea looked up at his handsome face and her heart fluttered. The feelings she had repressed for the past few weeks, started to pulsate in her veins, making her breaths unsteady and her mind dizzy. Upon leaving Minas Tirith, she had sworn never to love again, but this… Bard was… 

Her eyes brimmed with emotion and Brea realized restraining herself was pointless.  
With a soft cry, she jumped into his arms. Bard gasped in surprise, but caught her anyway. With his arms wrapped safely around her and her face buried in his neck, Brea felt a sense of safety she hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

‘Oh, you incredible man…’ she whispered shakily. ‘Thank you.’  
‘Really, it’s nothing.’ He breathed. ‘I only did what anyone would have…’  
‘Shut up.’ Brea said and she could almost feel his smile. 

They stood there in silence. Brea listened to his heart beating in his chest and revered in his warmth. His scent enveloped her being.  
‘Brea.’ He spoke and she shifted. He was watching her with a soft look in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.  
‘We should not be standing like this.’ He tried, but at the same time he did not make an attempt to move away.  
‘No.’ Brea agreed, doing the same. He and his gorgeous hazelnut eyes were mesmerizing, she could not tear herself away. 

‘Your eyes are more blue than anything today.’ Bard murmured. ‘But I could swear yesterday they were more of a green shade.’  
‘It’s because- I mean… the colour of my dress.’ Brea explained, but her voice was no more than a whisper.  
His fingers ghosted over her jawline, his calloused hands leaving a burning trail on her skin. He sent her a rather rueful smile, the one Brea had gotten quite familiar with over the past few weeks. Whenever he came closer or when they had a good time, he always looked like he was sorry for it. Almost as if he felt somehow guilty…

‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered.  
‘I can’t-’ he momentarily closed his eyes and stopped. ‘I won’t.’  
‘Won’t what?’  
Bard clenched his jaw before answering. ‘You are so young, Brea.’ He then said. ‘And I’m an old man. This is foolery.’  
‘Foolery, huh?!’ she purred, sounding far more brave than she felt. Her tongue darted over her lips before she reduced even the small distance that still was between them. 

A loud thud from upstairs shook them up and broke their embrace. Bard almost leaped backwards and then paced towards the door.  
‘Tell your father I had to leave and that I’m sorry.’ He spoke, without really looking at her face. ‘I have work to do.’  
‘But-’ Brea objected, but before she could even voice her thoughts, he was gone…

♦♦♦♦

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the next chapter of this series! I hoped you enjoy my Bard fic. Feedback is highly appreciated, so if you have a minute to spare I'd like to know what you think!
> 
> Until next time!  
> xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of this journey! It brings me so much joy to know there are people out here who enjoy my ramblings. Feedback is highly appreciated, so if you have a minute to spare I'd like to know what you think!


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